


night spilled ink

by moon_hedgehog



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - The Great Gatsby Fusion, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Mild Blood, bc i'm a coward, yeah ok i just wanted to write it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 08:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/pseuds/moon_hedgehog
Summary: Detective Sebastian Castellanos investigates murders of West Egg while honestly trying not to fall under the charm of his mysterious neighbor.





	night spilled ink

Sebastian has been working as a detective of the New York police for quite some time, he's managed to observe a lot of crap during his service, clean up about the same amount and pass through even more. In Roaring Twenties, you should cling to the workplace fiercely 'cause the corruption of the law enforcement agencies of big cities is a tittle-tattle of the century, and Castellanos himself – despite rotting somewhere deep in his heart, stubborn justice – has faced this phenomenon more times than he'd like. This time, however, the whole Big Apple has shrunk in horror, reading about abhorrent murders in the village of West Egg; noble ladies clinging to their long skirts and hats with feathers, fainting into the arms of their husbands; their husbands denouncing bribed by themselves policemen for inaction and nervously twirling cigarette cases in their pockets. Sebastian is less interested in these murders than it would be decent to admit - he's plunged into the case of New York's criminal gang and prepares to take the final, decisive step in the direction of its capture. The next day, his case is replaced by West Egg's, and after another, he's sitting in a train carriage rushing to the other side of the city, cursing the authorities and staring at the tasteless blue-starred carpet ceiling.

 

West Egg meets him with silence. Undisturbed with dust, turquoise wind, moaning from the heaviness of its branches linden tree, and a neat little house in which he is to live. This house is no match to the one that stands nearby, and soon Castellanos finds out that his closest neighbor is named Stefano Valentini, and that every Saturday he holds chic parties; and either their owner is too rich or too lonely, but surely no one cares. While champagne flows like water, and snacks crunch on the tongue – all that people will think about is pleasure. Sebastian quickly finds himself in a whirl of this pleasure. He takes off his hat in front of the women, tries to maintain empty talks with men, and keeps quiet about his own purpose of visit. And about who he is, too. Very soon, all conversations are reduced to Valentini and the detective greets his teeth on the river of information pouring onto him: here his mysterious neighbor is Italian, artist, photographer - now he kills an old woman for her fortune and receives at least five medals for bravery and loyalty to a non-Motherland. In the end, awakened curiosity drives him to the entrance of a giant mansion – seems like there are even more people, and they all rustle, worry, laugh, sing and argue; the owner himself is nowhere to be seen, so Castellanos jumps over the steps on the way to the upper floor, rightly judging that the one he wants to see must be there. It's quiet, behind tightly closed glass doors to the right of the stairs. The fabric of curtains rustles, and crystal chandeliers cast fancy glares on the walls. This room could be the next ballroom, but the only person in here is a pianist, running his fingers over black and white keys and the music he creates doesn't reach the ears of people rejoicing in the main hall. Like a shrill echo, it bounces off and crumbles into the air of a summer night with thousands of sparks.

Sebastian cannot stand still. Makes a move forward.

The pianist stops his game.

 

Stefano Valentini is really Italian; he has a way with a lot of musical instruments, makes paintings that cause enthusiastic whispers behind his back and smiles – although according to Sebastian, this smile looks more like a grin. He's also a war hero and an enviable bachelor, and all potential brides and lovers following him on heels get ignored in Castellanos' favor. Together they spend evenings in unhurried coastal walks, chat about nonsense that comes to their heads, and sometimes go silent, in the presence of each other and far from cares of their time. Sebastian should be concentrated on his case, but since he arrived, not a single new murder has happened which means why not just relax in pleasant company. At some point, he even tells Valentini what's brought him here. The latter shakes his head approvingly. His only eye glistens in the moonlight, shoulders are relaxed, hair hides forehead. Castellanos sniffs, then catches his lips in an uncertain kiss.

 

Nothing prepares Sebastian for the moment when Stefano's hands are stained with the blood of a sweet and dead girl, and he pulls a gun right in the direction of Valentini's chest. How do they say? Love doesn't discriminate?..


End file.
